


Masterpiece

by saratonincoffee



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Positivity, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25448506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saratonincoffee/pseuds/saratonincoffee
Summary: Claire is insecure about her body. Jamie helps her see that she is absolutely beautiful exactly the way she is.Excerpt: “You, Sassenach...yer a masterpiece more beautiful than anything I have ever seen,” he said, sincerity lacing every word. “Ye deserve to be adored in every way. Yer mind, it deserves to be revered...yer heart deserves to be cherished." His eyes then darkened further, a hungry look overtaking his features before he spoke his next words. “And yer body, mo chridhe,” he groaned out thickly, tightening his grip and smoothing his hands slowly up over my curves. “Yer body deserves to be fucking worshipped.”
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 84
Kudos: 169





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot was inspired by a quote I read: "A masterpiece is still a masterpiece even when the lights are off and the room is empty."
> 
> I just want anyone who reads this to know that you are unique and you are beautiful EXACTLY THE WAY YOU ARE. 
> 
> Also, FUCK society's standards of beauty.
> 
> \------------
> 
> A MASSIVE THANK YOU to Brittney (@wtfrasers) and Phoebe (@outlanderphoebe) for beta'ing for me. Thank you so much for going over my work and for your insanely helpful edits and comments, and your invaluable support :)
> 
> And thank you to Ryia (@rwleispiach) for reading this before I posted and for your supportive feedback :)
> 
> \------------

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Masterpiece

“Mo ghraidh, your very being is art.” He pressed his lips against mine softly, just a whisper, before pulling back. 

“Come here.”

He slowly pulled me up and walked me towards the large full length mirror in front of the closet, standing behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. My breath hitched as his mouth descended on my neck, whispering kisses along its length, just barely brushing, sending shivers through my body. His fingers grazed over my back and proceeded to slowly tug down the zipper of my dress, all the way to the small of my back before moving his hands to my shoulders. They skimmed down my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he slipped my dress off my body. 

My gaze met his in the mirror as he stared back at me intensely, determination and passion swirling in the ocean blue hues of his irises. My head turned towards his and claimed his mouth, gripping onto his firm bicep tightly when he opened his mouth and kissed me back, sliding his tongue and massaging it against mine. The kiss was slow, wet, hot, and messy but held a fierce passion and determination that had me tingling all over. 

I felt his hands swiftly unclasp my bra and push it off my shoulders, leaving it to fall at my feet. He cupped both his hands around my breasts and squeezed once, causing a moan to tumble out of my lips and into his mouth at the feel of it. Continuing down on their path, his hands slid down the pale skin of my stomach to the band of my panties. I kept my eyes squeezed tightly shut and continued to focus on just kissing him, tasting him, trying not to seem nervous about standing in front of him completely naked; exposed for him while he stood behind me still fully clothed.

I tried to turn around in his arms, an ostensible attempt to rid him of his clothing and make me feel less vulnerable. To my surprise, he tightened his grasp on my hips, holding me firm in his strong grip, not allowing me to move an inch. I let out a whimper against his lips. I secretly loved it when he took complete control of my body and its pleasure. Although, it wasn't much of a secret I suppose, since this man could read me like a book. He obviously knew what his actions did to me if the smug, satisfied smirk against my lips was any indication. 

He sank his teeth softly into my bottom lip, pulling it back before diving back in to devour my mouth with his own. His fingers hooked into the band of my cream colored lace underwear and slid them down my legs. They fell to my feet, leaving me bare. My heart pounded in my chest as his fingers grazed gently up over my hip bones, my entire body trembling slightly in his arms, from nervousness and arousal both. 

After a few moments the kiss slowly turned from passionate to tender, and he separated his lips from mine, nose brushing against mine as he pulled back. My breath came out in pants as he captured my eyes. The usually calm ocean blue of his eyes had turned dark and stormy. I shuddered under the intensity. 

He seemed to be taking things excruciatingly slow tonight, teasing me with lingering touches and soft brushes when all I wanted was to jump him and take him to bed then and there. 

The corner of his plump, kiss-swollen lips turned upwards, knowing precisely the effect that he had on my body. He could see it all over my face. I cursed myself for having a ‘glass face’ as he had so charmingly put it a few months ago. In moments like these, it always gave him the upper hand.

I searched his eyes, looking for what was going through his mind, questioning his deliberately unhurried pace, but he just held my eyes with a contemplative expression, giving nothing away. 

Just as I was about to snap at him, demand that he stop this ridiculous game of teasing, and take me to bed immediately, his eyes shifted from mine to the mirror in front of us. Suddenly tugging my hips back, he pressed himself against my arse, his hard arousal evident against the fabric of his pants. My breath hitched as he murmured huskily into my ear, “Look at yerself, Claire.”

_ Wait, what? _ There was no way I could do that. Look at myself, now? Stark naked in front of a mirror with him right behind me? My eyes widened in anxiousness, slightly uncomfortable with the situation I had somehow found myself in. I fidgeted with my fingers, trying to figure out what I should do as I felt a lump rise in my throat.

I glanced at his face with a worried expression, but the blatant desire swirling in his eyes as he dragged them lustfully over my body gave me a small boost of confidence.

“Trust me, Sassenach,” he whispered softly, lips brushing against the outer shell of my ear, thumbs rubbing across my hip bones reassuringly. I took a deep breath, swallowing my fears to let the small amount of confidence I have take over before turning my head towards the mirror. 

“Look at yerself. We can stop whenever ye want if yer feelin’ uncomfortable, but please, try for me first,” he murmured softly into my ear, lips still brushing against my skin with every word. My lips pulled up into a small smile. This massive, stubborn hulk of a Scot had a funny way of making me feel completely safe and comfortable with  _ him _ , no matter how uncomfortable I found the situation I was in. 

He nudged his nose against my cheek encouragingly, and I sucked in a breath as my eyes apprehensively wandered over my naked form. 

Something about this somehow turned me on but filled me with anxiety at the same time. In my previous marriage, most of the time Frank and I had slept together was done in the darkness of the bedroom, not really bothering to actually  _ look _ at each other. 

Jamie, on the other hand, from the very beginning of our relationship, had constantly expressed his unabashed, blatant appreciation and desire for my body. I could tell just by the reverent and slightly possessive way he touched me, the adoring and lustful way he looked at me. The way he took his time in letting his eyes trace over every inch of my body as if enamored by it, taking in every detail with a hungry, borderline animalistic look in his eyes.

And if that wasn’t already enough (which it was), he made sure to tell me so as not to leave a doubt in my mind that he found me irresistible. An admiring “Ye look so bonny in the morning, Sassenach,” stated the morning after our first date when I had woken to the realization that I had fallen asleep on the couch beside him while watching movies the night before. A groaned “Yer thick, plump arse makes me lose my fuckin’ mind,” as he took me from behind without abandon, fingers digging into my arse cheeks, hips slamming into me roughly. A murmured “ye have a lot of verra fine skin, Sassenach,” after I had told him I liked the feel of his stubble against my skin, after which he proceeded to show me just how fine he thought  _ all  _ of my skin was. 

But unfortunately, things weren’t that simple. A handsome man tells you you’re beautiful and suddenly all your insecurities just wash away. It didn’t work like that. Granted, what Jamie and I had was so much more than that, but even then. 

Although Jamie made sure I knew he thought I was beyond beautiful, it didn’t magically make me secure and confident in my body. No, my ten year relationship with Frank was like a deteriorating building. Over the years, his words created cracks, slowly chipping away at my confidence. Day by day and year by year, it crumbled until all that existed was rubble, and I couldn't even look at myself, the demolition site, without feeling uneasy. 

A matter of fact “you could use a little extra help, darling,” looking pointedly at my small chest while handing me a push up bra when I was shopping for some lingerie, making it clear he was none too impressed by my modest 34B’s had had my heart sinking. 

An avoidance of my arse, thinking it a little too fat when the flesh didn’t fit perfectly in his palms, had me crestfallen.

A patronizing “Claire darling, are you taking care of your skin properly? You seem to be breaking out in the forehead area,” when we were both getting ready for a social event had me trying to hold back the tears from falling down my cheeks. I myself had noticed earlier that my skin was less than perfect at the moment because I was expecting my period any day, but to hear him say it in such a demeaning way was like rubbing salt on an open wound. I knew logically that the fact that I didn't have perfect, photoshopped skin all the time was normal. But at that moment, and every time after, I found myself berating myself in my mind, hating that I didn’t look as perfect as expected. 

A humiliating suggestion of “you should wash up first,” when I had suggested towards the beginning of our marriage if he would maybe want to try going down on me. After I had done as he requested with shame heating my cheeks, he had obliged me begrudgingly. The experience had left a hollow, empty feeling in my chest. I had never asked it of him again, and he had never offered. The thought that remained in my mind was not that he simply didn’t like the act, but that he didn't like it with  _ me _ . 

A nudge, a whisper of “Maybe you should order the salad,” from him had had me thinking twice every time I ate something remotely unhealthy. Had me turning down seconds at every dinner. Had me looking at myself in the mirror, wishing I could look different, better somehow. 

After hearing things like that constantly throughout ten years of my life, my confidence was shattered into fragments. I couldn’t simply regain it overnight, no matter how many times Jamie told me I was beautiful. It wasn’t just something I could be told, it was something I had to grow to believe again. 

Jamie was slowly but surely helping me put the broken pieces back together simply by loving me the way I was, but my self confidence was nowhere near whole yet. 

My mind was still flooded with negative thoughts about myself and all the things I could see that were wrong with me. I was trying day by day to get better at being kinder to myself. Some days I was and some days I wasn’t. Some days I was able to see the good and find the beauty in it, and other days the insecurity would surface, rearing its ugly head. 

In the moment, I was feeling the insecurities flood my mind, feeling immensely vulnerable standing there with Jamie simply looking at me. It was different when he looked while we were having sex. Right now, he was just  _ looking _ .

I trusted Jamie more than I thought it was possible to trust anyone. With my soul, my life, my body, my everything. It was myself I didn’t trust at times. People say keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Well, my enemy was as close as it could be, seeing as it was my own mind. 

I tried to push the discomfort to the back of my mind as I forced myself to drag my eyes up my body at Jamie’s request. I started at the bottom, drifting my eyes slowly up my long, pale legs, between my thighs, gasping softly and cheeks tingeing red as I took in the evident wetness coating the area as well as the insides of my thighs. My eyes lingered there for a few seconds before moving upwards over the curve of my wide hips, over the soft skin of my stomach, up to the swells of my breasts which were rising and falling with each heavy breath I took. I took in my pink nipples, hard and pointed due to arousal, practically begging for his lips to provide some relief. 

Taking in a deep breath, I continued upwards, over my collarbones and neck which were littered with Jamie’s love bites. Up over my lips which were parted and swollen, a deep shade of red from his thorough kisses. My eyes roamed over my flushed cheeks framed by waves of dark, curly hair, up to my eyes which were wild and dark with need. I looked unrecognizable; every inch of my body was absolutely wanton with desire. 

My heart pounded in my chest as my gaze locked with Jamie’s in the mirror and found him already watching me with a mix of lust and adoration. He pressed himself further into my back and tightened his arms around me. The firm hardness of his chest against me warmed my body, and the hardness of his covered cock pressing against my ass caused the air to get stuck in my throat. 

“Ye alright?” he checked softly.

“Yes,” I managed to breathe out, so quietly I could barely even hear myself. He pressed a tender kiss to my cheek, continuing to reassure me, warming my heart to its very core. 

“Keep yer eyes on my hands,” he ordered lowly, the deepness of his voice causing my insides to do somersaults. My eyes slowly drifted down, running over the firm, defined muscles in his forearms, the smooth tan skin, the veins prominently running across their length, down to his hands, the embodiment of strength as they gripped my hips gently, a beautiful contrast. Powerful yet gentle. Rugged yet tender. 

I stayed concentrated on his long fingers, my mind wandering to how they make me feel when they’re buried deep inside me. I bit my lip at the thought. 

I felt Jamie’s breath whoosh against my neck as he let out a soft chuckle and my eyes snapped up to meet his. He looked at me knowingly with a glint in his eyes, and I felt the blush rush to my cheeks,  _ again _ , when he smirked, reading my mind. 

But his demeanor suddenly changed as he pulled me tighter against him and brought one hand up to my face, hand under my chin gripping my jaw tightly and harshly turning my head to the side. He brought his lips to my ear again while holding my face roughly, a complete 180 from his gentle demeanor a minute ago, and my mouth dropped open in a silent moan at his harsh actions. 

“Keep yer eyes on my hands, Sassenach. Dinna make me ask ye again,” he warned into my ear, teeth nipping my earlobe before letting go of my face. I bit my lip to stop myself from pathetically moaning at his words and actions as I quickly whipped my head back to the mirror and trained my gaze onto his hands which had settled on my waist. I could feel how wet I was between my thighs at this point, but I didn't dare to look. All this build up was almost painful, twisting the coil deep in my abdomen tighter and tighter.

His demeanor switched to gentle and tender again, giving me whiplash, as he whispered his hands lightly up my waist, over my breasts, over my collarbones, barely touching me, simply grazing with the tips of his fingers, leaving me craving more. My eyes followed his every move with labored breaths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 is a continuation of this :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Masterpiece

He started at my head, pressing a soft kiss to my temple and brushing his knuckles against it softly. “First and foremost mo ghraidh, yer mind is art. The way ye think is unlike anyone I have ever met. The way ye look at the world is…,” he paused, “unparalleled.” His thumb grazed my temple. “Yer intelligence astounds me. Yer mind, it deserves to be revered,” he began, conviction lacing every word. 

He then moved to my hair, brushing a few strands away from my face and tangling one of his hands through the curls as my eyes followed his every move. “Mo nighean donn.” he smiled softly, and I felt butterflies flutter in my stomach at his use of that endearment. “Yer hair was one of the first things I noticed about ye, ken? The wild curls flowing down yer shoulders like the water through a burn...the way it ruffles down the rocks. Dark in the wavy spots with... wee bits of auburn where the sun hits it. The mos’ beautiful shades, colors artists have tried and failed to create are right here, framing yer beautiful face.” 

The atmosphere in the room had tangibly shifted. His words caused my heart to beat out of my chest, slowly tearing down each and every one of my walls and insecurities, warming me from the inside out. 

He then moved his hand down to my eyes, brushing over my eyelids with controlled delicacy as they fluttered beneath his touch. “Yer eyes, I dinna even ken what to say. Art is a word beyond inadequate to describe yer eyes, Claire. Rich, deep pools of the finest whiskey. I can see each and every one of yer emotions in them. They enrapture me, hold me prisoner...but mo chridhe, I would gladly spend my life being held captive in your eyes.” He breathed, voice cracking slightly with emotion.

My eyes welled up slightly and one stray tear managed to escape and trail down my cheek. I hope he knew I felt the exact same way when I looked into the deep, clear blue depths of his own. He brushed his thumb softly against my cheek, wiping the moisture away fondly. I was frozen to the spot, unable to speak, completely enamored by the words of pure love coming out of his mouth. 

He continued his path down as he brushed his knuckles softly over my cheeks, whispering to me. “The soft skin of yer cheeks, the way they tinge with pink when I touch yer body, when I say the filthiest things to you...when I tell ye how I long to feel ye wrapped around my cock” he kissed my cheek as it involuntarily flushed in response to his words, which caused him to smile against my skin in satisfaction at getting the desired response, “that is art”. 

My breathing was heavy, and I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take, but I relished every second. Word by word he was chipping away at the insecurities that constantly swirled in my mind. Every negative thing anyone had ever told me slowly fell away, the only things remaining were Jamie and his affectionate words, his love. He was giving me strength and slowly helping me see _myself_. 

His fingers moved over to run across my swollen lips and my breath tickled his fingers softly. “These lips,” he groaned, closing his eyes and pausing for a moment to gather himself before opening them again. “These lips are art, and they are the only thing keeping me alive. It is as though I am a drowning man, and yer lips are my oxygen,” he confessed hoarsely, tracing over my parted lips with his fingers. “The way they form around words when yer speakin’ to me. At times I canna hear even a word ye say because I’m so mesmerized by them. The way ye bite down on them. The way they feel against my lips, so soft, so right, so perfect. It would be cruel not to kiss them,” he leaned forward to peck my lips lightly.

“The way they feel when they brush over my skin, like velvet. The way they feel when they’re wrapped around my cock. It is all art”. He dragged his thumb across my full lower lip, pulling it to the side before releasing it, letting it pop back into place. My ears were clinging to every word coming out of his mouth.

He moved one hand to the back of my head and brushed the back of my neck before sliding his hand up into my hair, twisting and fisting it in his grip. He tugged it back roughly to expose my neck, causing my head to fall back slightly with a gasp, while his other hand trailed its fingers down the side of my neck. 

“If there ever were a perfect stroke of the brush of creation, Claire, it is the curve of yer neck. It enchants me,” he breathed out, before bending down to follow the trail of his fingers with his lips down to my sweet spot before sucking harshly. A weak, drawn out moan escaped my lips as my head fell against his shoulder at the sensation involuntarily. He pulled back slightly and traced the red mark on my skin with his fingers. “The marks left on your body by my lips, that is art,” he said into my neck. 

His fingers traced down my collarbones, drinking in every inch of my skin before stopping just above my breasts. He pressed his large palm flat against my heart, feeling it pound against my chest. “Your heart, mo ghraidh. It has completely captured mine. Believe me when I tell you,” he said with a sincere fervor, “ye have the mos’ beautiful heart I have _ever_ had the pleasure to come across. It is kind, courageous, selfless, forgiving, strong, and so much more,” his eyes blazed into mine, “and it deserves to be loved endlessly,” he said with such conviction that I _had_ to look at him. As we locked eyes, we silently communicated to each other all the emotions in our hearts that our words simply could not. “The way ye love is art in its purest form,” he whispered, looking directly into my soul. 

“It belongs only, and _entirely_ , to you,” I told him honestly, my voice trembling and eyes welling with tears of heightened emotion. It was true. I loved many people, but he alone held _all_ of my heart in the palms of his hands, and kept it safe. 

We stayed that way, looking at each other with his hand over my heart, our souls speaking to each other. I was a mess, my body responding to his in its most carnal way, but my heart exploding with a mess of emotions. 

Time became non-existent until he eventually tore his gaze away from mine and moved it down to where his hand rested, and my eyes followed suit.

He changed course slightly as his hands ran down my arms to take hold of my wrists and lifted my arms to wrap them around the back of his neck. My breathing faltered as he whispered, “Keep yer arms there for me, Sassenech,” into my ear. 

All I could do was focus on moving air in and out of my lungs because I was so far out of my comfort zone. 

Jamie grazed his fingers over my breasts lightly, cupping each in his large hands and squeezing. I watched his thumbs rubbing over my nipples as he spoke to me. “Yer breasts,” he breathed out huskily, “they enthrall me. It is as though they were made for me,” he said, marveling at how they felt in his hands. “So full, so soft,” he murmured, squeezing again before rolling my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. A low moan escaped my throat at the feeling and I squeezed my legs together hoping to relieve some of the ache between my thighs. “These breasts are _art_ ,” he promised into my hair, squeezing again before forcing his hands away with seemingly great difficulty. 

He continued down, passing over my stomach and onto my hips. “The curves of yer waist...yer hips...they bewitch me,” he said softly, passing his hands over them. I smiled softly. I knew I didn’t have ‘womanly curves’ as someone had once informed me, but I was slowly learning that not meeting other people’s ideals of what women should look like didn’t make me any less beautiful. 

He moved down to my thighs, skipping over where I needed him most, and a pathetic whimper left my throat in disappointment. “These legs, they mesmerize me,” he whispered. “ ‘specially when they’re wrapped around my hips,” he added teasingly, causing me to laugh. 

“You can’t even see them then!” I teased back indignantly. 

He chuckled. “That mebbe so, but I can _feel_ them verra well, Sassenach.” I laughed in response. I did have a habit of trapping him against me with my legs. 

He paused at the sound of my laugh, then looked up at my face tenderly. “Yer smile, yer laugh,” he murmured, moving off course from his perusal of my body. “It has captured me: mind, body and soul,” he paused. “I feel like my heart fuckin’ flutters with happiness whenever you laugh,” he admitted, blushing slightly. 

A soft smile remained on my lips when we both looked back down as his hands trailed upwards from the top of my thighs, and my pulse raced in anticipation.. But instead, I gasped as he surprised me by gripping my hips and suddenly turning me sideways so my arse was visible in the mirror. My hands fell from around his neck, coming to rest on his firm chest. I watched as one of his hands moved my hair to the side and the fingertips of the other glided down my spine, softly skimming over the skin all the way to the small of my back, eliciting a shudder from my body. “The curve of your back, it exhilarates me,” he bit his lip. 

I kept my head turned towards the mirror as his hands slid down to my arse, fingers tracing the curve of it where it met my thighs before grasping tightly and squeezing, his short nails lightly digging into the soft, thick flesh. “Oh,” I let out a surprised squeal, jumping slightly in his arms. He hissed through his teeth when my body brushed against his hard center and tightened his grasp on me to keep me still. “Your round arse Sassenach, fuck,” he strained his words out, so close to losing control of this waiting game himself. “They entrance me. No piece of art on this entire fucking planet could even compare,” he said huskily. One of his hands lifted up and landed on my ass with a harsh smack and the hot flesh bounced under his hand, causing me to let out a strangled moan of his name. I whimpered as he continued to knead the heated flesh in his hands. “The marks left on it by my hands,” he squeezed harder, fingertips surely leaving bruises on my skin, “it’s art,” he finished. 

I couldn't take this. I was wound up so tight, wetness coating the insides of my thighs at this point. I knew what was coming next, and I clenched in anticipation as he turned me back around in his arms, grinding his crotch forcefully into my arse and smoothly pulling my arms back up, linking them around his neck. 

I watched his fingers slide down my hips, tickling the insides of my thighs, no doubt seeing and feeling the wetness there. My cheeks flushed pink as he let out a strangled groan behind me, addicted to the way my body always reacted to him. “Yer going to be the death of me Sassenach.” 

He continued to dance his fingers along the insides of my thighs, knocking my legs further apart from behind with his knee. 

My mind was clouding over with need, eclipsing any anxious thought in my brain. 

“Jamie,” I panted out. He was so close to where I needed him. My body felt like it was on fire, burning with the need for him to soothe the ache that was throbbing between my thighs. 

As if he was just waiting for me to speak, he slid his hand smoothly between my thighs, slipping two fingers between my soaking wet folds. “Yer fuckin’ dripping for me,” his voice was strained from what he was feeling, and I felt his cock twitch against my arse beneath the fabric of his pants. A whimper tore through my throat as one of his arms wrapped around my entire waist holding me steady against his hard body, and the other slowly rubbed up and down my heat. 

“Yer heat, it fuckin’ _intoxicates_ me,” he said, both of our eyes locked on his hand between my thighs. “It brings me to my _knees_ .” His thick voice sounded almost pained. “The way ye throb when I touch you there,” he continued to torture me, circling one finger around my clit. I could literally feel it pulsing against his finger, and I knew he could feel it too. “The way ye always get wet for me so quickly. _Just for me_ ,” he said possessively, sliding one long finger inside me. My mouth fell open in a silent moan and my knees trembled as I gripped onto his forearm tightly, which flexed under my fingers with every movement of his hand. My mind and body both felt positively delirious from the onslaught of sensations. 

“The way yer warmth feels when you're clenching around my fingers...my tongue...my cock. Ye take me so perfectly, I ken our bodies were made for each other,” he whispered huskily, adding a second finger, causing me to cry out helplessly and fight the urge to let my eyes flutter shut from the pleasure. “The sweet taste of ye against my tongue,” he moaned, unable to hold his hips back from continuously grinding against my ass in rhythm with his fingers, trying to ease some of his own discomfort. “Each and every bit is art,” he breathed, pumping his fingers in and out as his thumb began to stroke my clit. 

I could barely stand in his arms, I was sure I would fall to the ground if not for his arm tightly wrapped around my waist, holding me flush against him. The fact that both of us were transfixed on his hand, watching his fingers slide obscenely in and out of me, watching his thumb rub my clit harshly, my legs spread, the wet and filthy sounds of my arousal filling the room, it was all driving me out of my mind.

“I could spend an eternity between yer thighs, mo ghraidh,” he whispered into my ear, nipping at it and simultaneously curling his fingers deep inside of me, hitting that spot that had me seeing stars and writhing in his arms. 

His words and actions both drove me recklessly close to the edge of the cliff. “Jamie, please,” I managed a weak moan, not exactly sure what I was asking for.

He growled in my ear and began to thrust harder. My head fell back and I moaned loudly at the sensation, just about to fall over into mind shattering pleasure, so close I could almost taste it, when his fingers suddenly disappeared from inside me. 

“Jamie what the fu-,” I began heatedly, turning around ready to give his annoyingly perfect arse a piece of my mind. You do _not_ bring a woman to the edge of paradise and just leave her hanging. But he interrupted me by sliding one finger back into me, effectively shutting me up, causing a gasp to escape my parted lips in surprise and my walls to clench around him in a vice like grip, a futile attempt to keep him there.

“Look at me, Claire,” he demanded, gently nudging my chin with the knuckle of his pointer finger. I lifted my eyes and met his wild gaze in the mirror. 

He looked at me with pupils blown wide, eyes almost black with a ring of blue around them. But he did so with such burning intensity that I kept my mouth shut when he removed his finger from me again and placed his now wet fingers back on my hips. 

“Mo chridhe,” he began tenderly, but with an underlying tone of passionate urgency. “Never forget that you were art long before I came to admire ye. And you will continue to be art no matter who admires you or does not. A masterpiece is still a masterpiece even when the lights are off and the room is empty.”

My breath hitched in my throat. I was absolutely done for. All my walls had come crashing down, and I knew I was completely, and happily, bare for this man, mind, body and soul. I didn’t have his way with words, but I tried to tell him anyways how he was making me feel. How seen, how accepted, how beautiful, how _loved_ . And more than anything, how he was helping me feel those very things about _myself_. “Jamie, I -”

He hushed me as soon as I started speaking. “I ken,” he smiled softly, looking at me warmly. “And I’m no’ done yet.”

“You, Sassenach...yer a masterpiece more beautiful than anything I have ever seen,” he said, sincerity lacing every word. “Ye deserve to be adored in every way. Yer mind, it deserves to be revered...yer heart deserves to be cherished."

His eyes then darkened further, a hungry look overtaking his features before he spoke his next words. “And yer body, mo chridhe,” he groaned out thickly, tightening his grip and smoothing his hands slowly up over my curves. “Yer body deserves to be fucking _worshipped_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued in Part 3 :) (aka the smut chapter lol)
> 
> The underlined line in this chapter, "A masterpiece is still a masterpiece even when the lights are off and the room is empty," is a quote I found online. Not sure who to credit it to because I didn't find a a specific author. Just wanted to point that out :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of Masterpiece

I lost all sense of inhibition. My heart was enveloped in a blanket of warmth, fluttering and overcome with emotion due to his words, but at the same time, my body was unbelievably wound up and _craving_ his, electricity zapping through my veins. I chose to take care of the latter first as I spun around in his arms, tangling my fingers roughly through his soft curls and smashing my mouth to his. There was nothing sweet about the kiss. It was raw and passionate as he forced my mouth open and swiped his tongue heatedly against mine, swallowing any words I might have said. I kissed him back with equal fervor, memorizing every crevice of his mouth with my tongue.

He slid his hands down to my arse and tapped a finger, indicating that he wanted me to jump.

I hastily did exactly that, hands gripping his shoulders as I jumped onto his body, legs wrapping tight around his waist and grinding down onto his crotch. He harshly bit down onto my bottom lip as my soaking center came into contact with his hard arousal. 

It was a frenzy of uncoordinated, messy kisses in between tearing at his clothing as he walked us towards the bed. After I managed to wrestle his shirt off, we fell onto the bed with him on top of me in a mess of tangled limbs, lips never separating. I wrapped my legs around his waist and tried to pull him harder against me, but he chose that moment to pull back. 

I pouted slightly from the separation, and bit my lip as he stood up at the foot of the bed and unbuckled his belt, watching me hungrily as I lay spread out for him on the bed, like a predator watching its prey before the kill. The sound of his belt clanking against the floor caused my breath to hitch in my throat in anticipation, feeling the tension in the room build. If he was a predator, I was more than willing to let him sink his teeth into me. 

I watched with my lower lip pulled between my teeth as he lowered his pants and boxers, and blatantly stared with hooded eyes at his arousal, feeling an animalistic craving deep inside me yearning to be satisfied. 

He climbed onto the bed and crawled up over me, brushing against me as he moved, eliciting a shiver from my entire body. 

This time I succeeded in wrapping my legs around him, pulling him flush against me as he began to press open mouthed kisses down my neck and chest. “Jamie,” I whimpered as I felt his center connect with my own, and he circled his hips forcefully against me with a grunt. 

“Aye, Sassenach,” he rasped out, licking a stripe up my chest from where he was lavishing my breasts. He brought his lips back to mine and continued to roll his hips against mine, causing a delicious friction that knotted my stomach tighter and tighter. 

“Please,” I begged against his mouth. “I need you inside me.”

He let out a sound that rumbled from deep in his chest. His elbows rested on both sides of my head holding up his body. He slid one hand under my head and gripped my hair in a tight fist. 

“Watch me,” he ordered roughly, lining himself up at my entrance. “Look at me, Claire.”

I nodded instinctively, breathing heavily as I wrapped my arms around his neck and locked eyes with him. He teased my entrance with his blunt tip for a couple of torturous seconds before his hips plunged forward, burying himself inside me as deep as possible. He slid in easily due to the amount of arousal that had gathered between my thighs, but the abrupt force of it caught me off guard, knocking the breath out of me as my back arched and my jaw dropped open in a silent scream. 

“Claire, fuck,” he grunted through clenched teeth, stilling for a moment to let me adjust around his considerable size. His jaw was tense and his brows furrowed as he tried to control himself. 

“Don’t hold back Jamie,” I panted, squirming underneath him, desperate for him to move. I wanted him to be rough, to show me just how much he needed me. 

He leaned down, brushing his nose against mine as he spoke. “Aye, my Sassenach,” his lips pulled up into a smirk. 

One of his hands grabbed one of my own from around his neck and pushed it down onto the bed with his fingers tangled through mine, and he braced himself against the bed with the other hand. 

Suddenly, his hips moved back until he was almost completely pulled out before slamming back into me. A loud moan escaped my throat and my inner muscles clenched around him.

I cried out as he started a vigorous rhythm, moving in and out of me hard and fast, making sure his pelvis rubbed against my clit with each thrust. 

My hand that wasn't held in his grip moved to his back and my nails dug into his flesh sharply, trying to hold on to any semblance of sanity as he fucked me rough and deep, jolting my entire body with the power of his thrusts. 

I turned my head to the side and bit down on his firm, tense bicep that was resting next to my head, trying to hold back a scream from the overwhelming sensations flooding through my entire body. 

He choked out a moan as my teeth sank into his skin, his body jolting forward at the mix of pleasure and a twinge of pain. “Don’t,” he said in a strained voice, sounding out of breath. “I want to hear ye.”

“Jamie,” I panted, “I can’t, our, _oh…_ .the neighbors will.. _mmmh_ , they’ll hear.” Walls are a lot thinner than people think. 

Something flashed in his eyes as soon as the words left my mouth. He paused his thrusts, remaining hard and tense inside of me, muscles rippling with tension and restrained power as he held himself above me When he spoke, it was with a challenging tilt of his lips. “Hold back if ye can, Sassenach.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he flexed his fingers to tighten his grip on my hand. Using it as leverage, he started fucking into me so hard I would’ve been shoved up the bed if he hadn’t been holding onto me. 

I tried to hold back and prove him wrong, I really did, but lasted only about two seconds before whines and moans started escaping my traitorous mouth, getting louder and louder with each second that passed by. 

My body was trembling like a leaf beneath him, so agonizingly close, clenching and pulsing around him with every thrust that filled me. 

“Christ,” he groaned from where his face was buried into my neck, sounding absolutely out of his mind. “Feelin’ ye squeezin’ me like that, I can hardly control myself.”

“Don’t,” I moaned, arching up and pushing my breasts tighter against his chest. I didn’t want him to control himself. I wanted him uninhibited. “Let go, Jamie,” I pleaded, tightening my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside me, needing to feel every single part of him pressed against me when he came inside me. 

“No,” he growled, pulling back with a fiery look in his ocean eyes. He reached back to grab my other hand and roughly pinned it against the bed. “No’ until I feel ye come around me. God Claire, I need it, I need to feel ye. Come for me, mo chridhe,” he panted out, filth filling his voice.

My mind was spinning in a haze of pleasure and torture. I felt like my body was engulfed in fire, and he was the only thing that could douse the flames. 

I wasn’t just feeling him in my lower body, but also in my chest. The emotions mixing with the physical sensations made everything feel surreal. 

He suddenly shifted up on his knees between my legs, pausing his thrusts for just a split second, but enough to make me writhe beneath him in desperation. Slipping his hands underneath me, he grabbed onto my arse, lifting me up slightly from the bed before driving his hips forward again. 

This time, he didn’t stop. His thrusts were merciless, using the entire power of his body to drive into me. His hands kept a tight grip on my arse, using the leverage to pull me against him every time he pushed forward. 

My eyes felt drunk at the sight of him, and I watched him as he watched me. The way his mouth hung open slightly, brows furrowed, eyes wild with pleasure as he feasted his eyes over every part of my body, flitting from my face that was scrunched in pleasure, to my breasts, down to where we were joined, not able to keep them in one place, looking captivated and fucked out of his mind at the same time.

I watched the way his fiery red hair framed his face, the way the defined muscles of his arms flexed as he held me. His golden skin, the scattering of dark red hair on his sculpted chest and lower stomach. The way all the muscles in his body were tense and flexed tight as he moved. The deep, sharp v of his hips, leading down to where he was buried deep inside me. 

All I could do was let my body get lost in the feeling. Get lost in him. Let my back arch up towards him in desperation. Let my hands fist the bed sheets in a tight grip in a futile attempt to hold on to some semblance of control. Let my hips buck up to meet his involuntarily. 

“Yer close, I can feel it,” he gritted out, only increasing the force of his hips, hitting places so deep inside me I could feel my eyes start to water from the overpowering, uncontrollable feeling building up inside me. “Come for me, Claire.” 

My mouth dropped open in a scream as he spread one hand over my lower stomach and rubbed his strong thumb harshly against my swollen clit. My body spasmed as I hit my high, tensing around him with my head spinning and vision blurring as the pleasure exploded throughout my body.

“Jamie!” I cried out. The feeling was so intense as all the tension inside my body snapped, I couldn’t stop myself from crying out even if I wanted to. 

Jamie indulged himself in drinking in the sight of my body reacting to the torrent of pleasure flowing through it.

My body shook as my chest arched up, but a few seconds later, it was pushed back down by Jamie’s large body coming down over me again and completely engulfing mine. He held himself up slightly by his hands on either side of my head to avoid crushing me. My mindless moans were cut off by his lips crashing into mine. I didn’t even have a chance to recover from my orgasm before he continued relentlessly fucking into me harder, drawing out the mind numbing feeling inside of me. I honestly felt like I was about to fall unconscious any second.

I felt Jamie’s thrusts become uneven before he fell forward slightly, burying his face into my neck. He growled out a shocked, “Ah, Claire - fuck,” snapping his hips forward while his body tensed and trembled. 

He pushed into me one last time, burying himself inside me to the hilt, and his fingers clenched into the sheets with white knuckles when I dragged my nails roughly down his back the way he liked. He stilled inside me with a loud, muffled groan of my name into my neck, and I felt his body twitch and jerk with each release of warmth that spilled into me while he moaned helplessly as pleasure consumed his entire body. 

We were both struggling for air due to the violent bliss that had just wrecked our bodies. With the last of his strength, Jamie raised himself up and moved slightly so he was laying next to me, then pulled me against his chest, hooking my thigh over his and leaving a soft kiss on my shoulder. I placed a kiss with parted lips on the center of his chest in return and nuzzled my face into his chest.

Both of our breaths were coming out in uneven pants as we slowly came down from our highs and our relaxed bodies melted into each other, simply enjoying laying in each other's arms tangled in the soft sheets. 

An indeterminate amount of time later, as I was drifting between the haze of sleep and reality, I felt the slightly rough pads of his fingers slowly brush down my cheek, grazing tenderly. “Sassenach,” he murmured softly, bringing one finger below my chin and pressing up slightly, silently asking me to look at him. 

I followed his silent request and looked up, meeting his affectionate gaze lovingly with a lazy, satisfied smile on my lips. I felt absolutely content just laying in his strong, protective arms, surrounded by the comforting warmth of his body and looking into his clear blue eyes that sparkled under the warm light of our bedroom. I could stay this way forever.

“I dinna love yer body just because I think it looks sexy, mo chridhe,” he whispered, brushing his nose against mine, our breaths mixing between the mere centimeters that existed between our lips. He was looking into my eyes, although at that moment, it felt like he was looking into my very soul. “Although it does look…,” he ran his hand down the side of my body, “..verra sexy,” he assured me with a smirk and a lick of his lips. “I love yer body because it's _yours_ . It belongs to you. And because of _that_ , it is beautiful to me.”

“I willna deny that I wanted ye from the first time I saw ye,” he admitted. “But that want,” he paused, placing a large hand gently on my cheek before continuing, “it was nothing compared to how much I want you now, mo ghraidh. Now that I possess your soul and hold it safe in my heart, and in return you possess my own.”

My eyes brimmed with unshed tears as his words washed over me and wrapped themselves around my heart, squeezing tight and promising to never let go. 

“I love you, James Fraser. You break my heart with how much I love you,” I confessed, looking at him with teary eyes that shone with adoration. 

He grinned. “Dinna fash, Sassenach. I’ll mend yer heart with how much I love ye,” he responded teasingly, but I knew he meant every word. 

I leaned forward and captured his bottom lip between mine, kissing him tenderly, pouring into it every ounce of love I had for this man. He returned it the same way, softly parting my lips with his own, languidly dancing his warm tongue along mine, lazily exploring as if we had all the time in the world to do just this. 

After a while, we both pulled away, smiling at each other stupidly as if we were teenagers falling in love for the first time. 

“Let’s go to sleep,” I murmured, nuzzling his nose sleepily. 

I jolted in his arms as I felt his hand snake down and squeeze my arse, and he chuckled at my reaction. “Did ye already forget what I said earlier?”

I looked at him with furrowed brows, indicating that I had no idea what he was going on about. 

He smiled mischievously, moving us so he was hovering above me once more, and dropped a kiss on my lips. 

“I said yer body deserves to be worshipped, Claire,” he said huskily. An open mouthed kiss on the weak spot of my neck caused me to shiver. “And that’s what I intend to do,” multiple wet kisses pressed all over my cleavage. “All. Night,” he finished, and proceeded to worship _every inch_ of my body with his hands and lips before taking me again, this time slow and tender until both of us climaxed in each other’s arms with shaky breaths against each other’s lips. 

I eventually fell asleep in his arms. With him, it was as though nothing could hurt me, not even my own mind. I was safe. Protected. Loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> This was my first attempt at writing fanfiction, so any feedback is welcome :)


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